Almost Like Old Times
by KiwiDayDreams
Summary: Plagued by guilt, Joker's been having dreams about Shepard's death ever since the Collector attack. Not only was he unable to save her, but he never told her how he felt about her. One call from a Cerberus operative rekindles his hopes at a second chance.
1. No Words

It was raining again.

The first night he had sat by the window and watched it until his eyes began to burn. It had been a novel thing, something he hadn't seen in a long while spending so much time in the darkness of space. Weeks later, as it poured relentlessly outside of his Alliance issue apartment, he hated how much it reminded him that he was stuck here...reminded him of his losses.

Joker sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand through his tousled hair. He usually kept it cut pretty short despite the fact it was always hidden under his hat, but now it was at least a couple inches long, enough for proper bedhead. The stubble on his chin was just starting to fill back in. A night or so prior he had shaved out of boredom, decided he hated it, and vowed never to go baby-faced ever again.

He never considered himself the moping type, but after countless hours of these mind-numbing day-to-day exercises he definitely had begun to. Granted, he was probably a hundred times safer where he was now, but he hated safe. He'd grown up with nothing BUT safe, and had thanked the stars (if you'd pardon his sentimentality) when he was finally out in space where anything and everything could go wrong. And, god he loved it. It was something he had thrived on ever since he began piloting. And just when it seemed it couldn't have gotten any better, Commander Shepard had taken this perilous freedom to an all new level. There were no limits, there was no defeat, and anything that dared to stand in their way...

….her way...

He vaguely realized he had been thinking of them like that for awhile now; as a team. It was Shepard out there crashing the Mako into Geth and backhanding mercs while he sat in the safety of the cockpit, but she had always managed to make it feel like they were standing on equal ground. When she was overwhelmed and needed and out, he was there. While she fought Sovereign from the inside, he took the outside. And when she was looking just a little too serious, a little bit like something might be starting to crack, she came to talk to him and he brought that all-to-rare smile back to her face.

Not that 'they' really mattered anymore. Not that 'they' ever really existed. Not like he wanted, anyway.

He was an awesome pilot, sure, but a little slow on the uptake on the whole emotional thing. Leave it to him to figure it out when the woman he JUST REALIZED he was in love with, got knocked out of his grasp and into the exploding wreckage of the Normandy. He had beaten on the glass until his hand was throbbing and he forgot how many of the tiny bones in his fingers he'd broken. Truthfully, he hadn't even acknowledged it until he was released from the med-clinic and was informed that the Council had forbade him to fly. Damn right he was furious, but arguing did nothing. Hell, he couldn't even go to the Citadel and take it up with them personally with the place undergoing repairs at the time.

And that's how they honored her – their savior. They split everyone up and pretended like the whole thing never happened. Pretty soon, they'd work to have her forgotten – nothing more but another footnote in the history databases just to cover their asses.

He couldn't, though. It was as though Shepard wouldn't let him. Not that he wanted to...but it did shit for his mornings dreaming all night about her dying and not being able to do anything. It probably would have driven lesser people to something drastic, but he wasn't that stupid. And he was too damn pretty to bring that tragedy on the universe.

He never noticed when he'd pulled his legs up on the bed, or when his head hit the pillow. It was just another step in the monotony of everyday 'civilian' life. He fell asleep easily, the ache in his hips and legs finally subsiding after a day making strenuous efforts at walking. In the Normandy, he hadn't had much reason to, but damn it if he was going to be confined to this god forsaken apartment like he'd just given up...

* * *

><p>"Hey, wake up."<p>

"I am awake." Joker lifted his eyes to the Commander, offering a crooked smirk that he'd reserved just for her. "I'm just listening."

"Right. You never just listen," she replied, hands on her hips.

"Okay, I'm bored. But I figured it wouldn't be as polite if I let my head smack into the console." He felt her fist nudge his shoulder.

"I know it's boring, Joker, but I'm obligated to make sure everyone listens to it."

"All of it?" he asked, pouting up at her. Her eyes rolled back and then returned to him. She bent down beside him and stopped the audio playback of the Council's latest set of policies concerning humanities' recent inclusion in their ranks.

"Okay. Long and short of it is 'Blah, blah, don't do anything stupid, blah, blah, we won't be held responsible, so on, signed the asshat Council...minus Anderson."

"Wow, I like that version much better." He grinned and she chuckled. "You should sum up all my paperwork for me, Commander."

"But then where would I get my commentary?" she asked. He rubbed his chin in mock thoughtfulness.

"Hm, you have a point."

As he craned his neck to look up at her, Joker felt an immediate sense of deja vu. He'd played through these motions before, said all the same things. Sometimes it began at different moments, some where they'd share a chat and others where he wouldn't see her at all. No matter how it started, it always ended the same.

But it _felt_ different...

Time was nonexistent, and Shepard seemed to linger there a little longer. He looked at her, took in every clear feature he could manage. She said something then that he didn't hear, and couldn't quite remember from prior dreams. All he could do was watch how her lips moved, wanting nothing more to leap out of his chair and kiss them like he never would. When she turned to leave, his body turned his attentions back to the console as always, right on schedule.

It wasn't long before he heard Pressly, and heard himself talking to the XO. He was damn near certain he could feel a cold chill run through his spine as the Normandy began picking up the signals of the foreign craft creeping just a little too close to their position. It all seemed to happen so fast, just like his memory, as the ship changed trajectory and the world went to hell. Pressly was downed in seconds, and Joker could hear the hull tearing apart behind him as the smell of fire filled his nose.

His fingers activated the shield after he pulled on his helmet, enclosing him in his own little bubble away from the chaos as he tried to steer clear of another attack. He had no idea what was going on elsewhere as he sent out transmissions, didn't know how many were dead, or what, if anything, was left of the Normandy.

Something in him jolted, making him release the controls.

_The Normandy is lost...going down with the ship won't change that._

The world around him shook, and he clenched his eyes shut a moment. Enough, he thought. He refused to just sit by and let this happen again. He struggled a little, but brought himself to his feet easier than he could ever remember. He had just rested both feet on the floor, hand on the back of the chair as Shepard broke through the field. She paused only for a breath, and then moved quickly to assist him.

In another time and place he might have felt like an idiot for it, but he hobbled towards in haste with the intent to embrace her and never let go. When she ducked under his arm and gripped his wrist, he remembered where they were and quickly followed her lead towards the escape shuttle.

His heart lept into his throat as she helped him in, and he watched her, waiting to see her ripped away again. Once he was inside, his hand shot out and gripped her wrist. He could just faintly see her eyes as the beam drew near again and it illuminated her visor. Desperately, he pulled her in and she followed him, slamming her hand on the eject button. They propelled outward as the thrusters on the shuttle kicked in, and Joker watched as the beam tore the Normandy apart. Only this time, Shepard was not on the other side.

Shepard settled into the seat across from him, not bothering with the restraints as she pulled off her helmet and pressed her face into a hand. Joker was out of his chair before he realized what he was doing. He stumbled as his legs turned weak, about crashing into her lap. She was startled, dropping her helmet, but caught him and helped him into the seat beside her.

"Are you alright?" she asked, pulling off his helmet and checking for injuries. His hands raised to hers at his face, and his fingers curled around hers.

"Great," he replied, and lowered their hands, but never lost his grip on hers. When she wrapped her own over his he felt his heart ache.

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yeah... yeah," he assured her. He imagined that he was probably looking at her pretty hard, and maybe that was strange for her. But, damn, she was gorgeous. Scorched, sweaty, and out of breath, she couldn't have been more beautiful. Up close like this he could see things about her he had never noticed. She had a tiny scar through her left eyebrow, not as prominent as those on her jaw. Her eyes also had the faintest hint of brown amongst the green.

She looked back, cheeks flushed from the escape and lips parted as she caught her breath.

"You...lost your hat," she said. He blinked and raised a brow, and then they both gave a breathless laugh. "God..." She ran her hand through her mussed hair now and tilted her head back a moment. "I thought I was going to die for second there..." Almost instantly, Joker sobered up.

"Shepard," he said, in all seriousness. She looked at him, mouth still quirked in humored disbelief. When she saw the look on his face, the smile faded.

"What? What's wrong?" It was probably a dangerous thing to dare, but he couldn't help it. He kissed her, full and unapologetic, felt the warmth of her lips on his, and could have died a happy man. Though he knew it was too much to hope for, he fell right into it when he felt her kiss back. When he pulled back just a breath away, his head ducked, averting his eyes from her. "Joker..." He had clenched his eyes shut, waiting for her to vanish, but when she said his name and he looked up to see her still there he abandoned all other thoughts. He nudged his forehead to hers and kissed her again, just lightly a few times.

He felt her grin against his mouth.

"Something you care to tell me, helmsman?" she joked, but rested her forehead to his. "Or is this another coping mechanism?"

"A little from column A, a little from column B," he replied, chuckling.

"Well, I'm likely to be buried in reports very soon, so I'd say you best get on with it."

"I just...," he fumbled. "Listen... I'm really bad with these things..."

"You sure? I'm riveted." Bless her and damn her all at once, she was grinning. She had about died and she was making jokes. Not that there was any doubt at this point, but he _loved _this woman.

"Not helping," he huffed, but couldn't help but smile. "But, uh... I think... No.. I mean...I'm definitely...and totally... feeling like... I..."

"Jeff," she caught his attention by using his real name, something she never did. She drew close to him again, her breath light on his mouth, and kissed him gentle and slow. It felt like it could last forever and if it had, he wouldn't have minded. He didn't really speak, but just barely whispered the words he'd meant to say in the kisses. Soon she was in his arms, and he cursed the armor that prevented him from really feeling her. He pressed his face against her neck and in her hair, squeezing tight.

"Don't leave me, Shepard..."

"I won't," she replied quietly. "I promise."

And suddenly, she wasn't in his arms anymore. He was in the shuttle, alone, just like all those times before.

* * *

><p>To be honest, it was the most peaceful he had awaken in a long while. Usually, he would find the sheets half tossed off the bed, pillows strewn about the floor as he strained in his sleep. Now, he opened his eyes, blankets and pillows right where he left them. He stared at the stark ceiling at first, and then he turned his head to the empty side of the bed as if, for some strange reason, she should have been there.<p>

As he lay there he couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. Initially, he felt bitter at Shepard's unkept promise, but then he felt it at his own subconscious for making her promise it at all. But it really did seem like something she would say. The unwanted feelings were back again, pitting in his stomach and putting a knot in his throat. He whipped the covers off himself and sat up, sliding back to the edge of the bed. It was barely even light outside, just the orange haze as the sun started to peek over the horizon. But at least it wasn't raining anymore.

He hobbled in nothing but his boxers towards the bathroom. He wasn't going to get any more sleep tonight after that, and insistent on not laying around and dwelling on it, he set about his morning routine. He took a cold, sobering shower before finally turning it warm to wash. He refused to acknowledge that some of the water running over his face may have not come from overhead.

He had barely gotten out and wrapped a towel around his hips when the apartment's integrated comm chimed to signal an incoming call. He headed for the bedroom again, not caring about the puddles of shower-water he dripped all over the floor.

He really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, but hell, it was the first call he'd had in a long while. At the very least it would break the norm. He hit the receive button.

"Yeah, what?" he asked, not bothering with the formalities.

"I assume I'm speaking with Jeff Moreau," came an accented, female voice.

"Joker, but yeah. Who's this?"

"Am I correct to say that you are the same 'Joker' that worked with Commander Shepard?"

His head was starting to hurt.

"So what if I was?"

"Then I think you may want to drop the attitude and listen very closely to what I have to say, Mr. Moreau. We have a proposition for you."

"Alright, I'll bite. What?" He settled down on the bed and started to dry out his hair.

"We are going to be in need of a pilot soon, but it can't be just anyone." Joker smirked despite himself, glad to see that his own ego was still in tact. "You would be serving under a person of very high regard."

"Yeah, right," he muttered to himself. "The only person I hold in 'high regard' is Shepard." Though he hadn't been talking very loudly, it seemed as though the woman on the other end had superior hearing, and what she said made him pay attention for the first time.

"Precisely."


	2. Dreaming Wide Awake

He couldn't have said how many times he expected to just wake up.

Ever since that call came through the comm in his apartment he wasn't sure he could trust reality anymore. He wasn't about to question it at this point. Hell no. Not when this was a gazillion times better than any dream he'd had thus far and, damnit, he planned on living this one out. He could have fallen into a coma for all he cared as long as this was real to him and she was alive and...

Shit, he had to pinch himself again. Yep, still stung.

And on top of all that Cerberus, who he didn't particularly trust but what the hell, actually offered to make it easier for him to walk. Without crutches. He remembered having smacked himself across the face a few times when the operative told him that. He'd heard about the procedures before but they weren't something most surgeons offered. The ones that did were way above his pay-grade and he just didn't quite trust people that could wipe out his entire bank account in the blink of an eye. But it wasn't his problem. Cerberus was footing the bill, and that suited him just fine. He would have been lying if he said the next sixth months of surgery and therapy wasn't hell, but he knew it was going to be worth it. He was going to be able to see her soon, and he could walk right up to her, look her straight in the eye...and...

_And then what, Jeff?_

He paced up and down the hallway a few times. Never had such a mundane thing seemed so awesome. Despite the doctor's suggestion that he should take it easy he just couldn't stop moving around. His hips ached something fierce, but it was the farthest thing from his mind. What did he plan to say? To do? Did he plan on anything at all? And while the Shepard in his dreams seemed to reciprocate, what if the real one didn't? It would be a blessing just to have her alive again, just so he could be around her. Never mind that he might actually have the chance to actually hold her...to kiss her...and tell her everything he'd been too stupid to acknowledge before. Anxiously, he bounced on his toes a little and immediately regretted it. Hobbling out of the hall he settled into a chair and stared at his toes, silently accusing them of ruining his fun.

His mind wandered to other things soon enough, almost as restless as his legs. It seemed not too long ago that his sleep was plagued by dreams, but now he could barely sleep at all out of anticipation. Every waking moment he was one step closer to the day the Lazarus Project was due to be complete. He had highlighted the date several times on his apartment console. Every now and again he would wander back and deselect it and re-highlight it just to be sure.

Would she look the same, he wondered. Would she act the same? Would she truly BE Shepard? He had his suspicions about Cerberus' motives, but they were playing up to his good side more than anyone else these days. Improved legs, a piloting job, and rebuilding Shepard? Shit. It was like they were miracle workers...or demons happily doing deeds as long as promised them your first born. The latter seemed most likely. While he was recovering the hospital he had begun to think of how things could go wrong...with his implants...with Shepard. What if she came back like a zombie and tried to eat his brains as soon as they reunited?

He'd supposed it wouldn't have been the worst way to go, he loved her after all, though the thought still disturbed him for awhile.

When the pain in his foot subsided enough, he pressed himself up on the good foot and limped to the closet to retrieve his crutches. Damn then, he thought sourly, having hoped to never need them again. Alas, he had to make it to the infirmary in one piece and get his foot looked at, so out they came.

He awkwardly pulled on a plain t-shirt and cringed through the process of pulling on his pants. Hoisting himself back up on the crutches, he made for the door and paused. He returned to the bedroom to retrieve the Cerberus issue cap he'd been given – a striking white on black with the initials SR2 embroidered on the front. He slipped it on, took a peek at himself in the bathroom mirror and decided it looked awesome before exiting the apartment.

* * *

><p>Joker had once dreamed that he was naked in piloting school. It was a terribly cliché sort of dream and he felt more embarrassed for having it at all than the whole being naked part. The dream he was currently having was rather similar: he was naked in piloting school, but this time there was no one else in the room but him and Shepard. She'd originally showed up in the same uniform his instructor used to wear, though she sported it much better than the crotchety old man he remembered.<p>

The pilot was eager to touch the warmth of her flesh and the uniform was in the way no matter how good it looked. His hands made quick work of it and he kissed her deep and heated over and over again. When she crawled over him on the instructor's desk and pressed her hips to his in that oh, so delicious way that made his loins ache, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her and just let go.

Unfortunately, that was when the comm began to chime. His eyes opened slow and bleary with the noise and he moved to sit up in bed, finding that the fire in his pants had not been confined to the dream. Hips aching, he bundled the covers up around his legs to cover the obvious tent before reaching over to hit the button.

"What?" he asked, not hiding the fact he was disgruntled. This had been the first really good dream he'd had in a while, and whoever was on the other end was going to catch hell if they didn't have something really important to tell him.

"Mr. Moreau, this is Miranda Lawson." Ah, the Cerberus chick. She hadn't called since their initial meeting. Apparently, she didn't enjoy listening to him talk as much as he did and made it a point to initiate conversation with him a little as possible. The fact that she was calling intrigued him enough to numb out his disappointment.

"Miss Lawson," he made an attempt at being civil. "To what do I owe the honor?" Okay, he was actually being an ass, but she didn't have to know that.

"It seems as though our plans have changed." She paused. She liked to do that, likely to allow him time to respond. Joker assumed she just liked being dramatic. He didn't reply right away, his hands squeezing the covers in their grip. It figured, didn't it? It had all sounded too good and now they planned to back out on him – or else they had been lying the entire time. But just as he planned to give the operative a verbal smackdown, she preempted him. "Commander Shepard has been brought out of suspension ahead of schedule."

It was Christmas in JULY!

Joker felt his heart jump into his throat, feeling a little too much like a teenage boy who had just been caught in his underwear by the hot girl next door. Honestly, he didn't know why, but he expected Shepard to walk right in his door and catch him in bed. He shook his head and quickly dispelled the shock.

"What? Wait, how?" he asked, proud that his voice didn't crack. "It's still...weeks before..."

"Some unforeseen events have occurred and they required that we make a few adjustments."

Joker paused in thought and tugged the covers up a bit. His heart had calmed, but just barely. It had sunk back to his chest where it continued to beat fiercely. It took him a moment to form the words, but his tongue eventually decided to obey as his tone came soft.

"Is she there? Can I talk to her?"

"Soon," Miranda replied curtly. "In the meantime you had best prepare yourself for pickup. We're sending a shuttle for you that should arrive at precisely 0900 hours. Remember to wear your Cerberus issue uniform." The comm shut down before he had a chance to say anything more, not that he could find the facilities to do so at the moment. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring at nothing in particular, but merely absorbing the news. At some point he pulled himself out of bed and had made it into the bathroom for a shower. After that, he cut back his unruly hair and trimmed his beard. His feet carried him dutifully, though with some practiced effort, into the bedroom to retrieve the uniform he hadn't even bothered to unwrap until now.

Still in a daze, he managed to dress and pulled on the specially made boots with the integrated braces for extra support. It was only three minutes to 0900 when he put the cap on his head and finally caught his own eyes in the mirror. He watched his reflection start to grin, and he realized he hadn't really seem himself in a very long time. The pilot staring back at him was a man he thought he'd lost along with Shepard in the cold dark of space but, hell, she'd been brought back from the dead. It seemed she wasn't the only one.

Somehow he managed to keep himself still the entire shuttle ride to the Cerberus station despite feeling so anxious. Every corner he turned and every door he passed through he wondered if she would be waiting on the other side. It wasn't until his escort had brought him to a reception desk and arranged room and board for him that he realized Shepard wasn't even there. He had never been the patient type, to be honest, and it took every sliver of willpower he had to not revert to a five year old and start asking a lot of 'why' and 'whens' and 'how longs'. The last thing he wanted to do now was go and sit in an unfamiliar bedroom that probably had cameras everywhere and twiddle his thumbs till they broke.

His impatience was topped off with suspicion when he was led down some stairs into a dark, windowless room. It didn't exactly give off the friendliest vibe and he half expected to be shot in the back any second. His more logical mindset pointed out that it made no sense to put all the effort into this just to execute him. As far as anyone was concerned at this point he was pretty much a nobody...a nobody who knew the truth about Shepard.

Joker wouldn't have admitted it, but he flinched as the scanning interface rose up around him and the foreboding room dissolved away to something else. The first thing that caught his attention was the large, flaring star at the far end of the room. It was a strange mixture of colors, some of it a radiant blue and the other an angry red. The next thing he noticed was that he was not alone anymore. A man sat a few feet away in a chair, regarding him with eyes that looked all sorts of wrong.

"Jeff 'Joker' Moreau. I trust your trip here went well. How are you feeling?" Joker pressed his lips together in a thin line, eyebrows crooking. So, he was one of _those _people. The 'I never met you, but we're totally friends' people.

"To be honest? I'm feeling a tad irate. I was told Shepard would be here."

"And she will be," he replied, unphased as he put his cigarette out. "She's currently on a mission."

"Convenient." Joker folded his arms over his chest.

"I understand your concerns, Mr. Moreau, but I had hoped that our little gift would have been an indication of how much we would like to work with you. It's not a personal practice of mine to invest my money into something I plan to stab in the back."

"No offense, but that's really hard to take seriously from a guy who calls himself the 'Illusive Man'." The strange, mechanical looking eyes focused on him a few silent, eerie minutes.

"As you may know, Cerberus is not the most well-liked organization in the galaxy. Certain measures to assure my anonymity are necessary."

_Heard that one before._

"I am aware that trust is not something easily bought."

_Sure, you are, moneybags._

"Shepard will arrive, but in the meantime I believe there is something that might put things in perspective for you, Mr. Moreau."

_Great, I knew it! Where's the knife?_

The Illusive Man's office inexplicably vanished and Joker found himself standing in what looked like nothingness. His eyes darted about the space, wondering what exactly was going on and why the other room had not returned.

"Uh, yeah," his voice echoed endlessly. "I think you broke something."

Suddenly, there it was. In front of him, a projection of a very familiar vessel came into view. He looked at it, jaw immediately falling slack. The last time he had seen the Normandy it had been falling to shreds around him but he could still tell it was her. There were some small differences but it was his baby, sleek and shiny and absolutely gorgeous. His hand flew to his mouth to prevent himself from drooling. Around him, the Illusive Man's voice filled the dark.

"I wouldn't expect a pilot of your caliber to fly anything less." In his head, Joker willed him to shut up and stop ruining the moment. "She's completely outfitted, staffed with a full crew, and ready to be put through her paces. All she needs is a pilot...and her Commander."

Joker still didn't like him, didn't trust him, but it was very obvious that the Illusive Man knew how to bargain. There was no doubt in the pilot's mind that this man was very convincing when he wanted to be, and when his words weren't sealing the deal, no doubt his money was. He hadn't been lying, either. He had obviously poured endless funds into not only Joker's legs, but Shepard and the building of the new Normandy. What in the hell did he want for all this, Joker wondered. For all his generosity, the pilot was certain it came at an equally hefty price.

* * *

><p>The next few hours were grueling, and Joker spent most of it pacing around his room since they wouldn't allow him to wander around outside unattended. He poked into every nook and cranny trying to locate the cameras he knew was there and making wretched faces in random directions from time to time in case someone was watching. When his legs started to ache in complaint, he finally sat down on the bed. It had been very meticulously made when he first arrived, but he made it a point to un-tuck the sheets and toss the blanket and pillows into disarray in some form of rebelliousness and just outright show of obstinance.<p>

He stretched his legs out straight, resting his heels on the floor and pointing his toes a few times. Eventually, his thoughts turned to Shepard again and he began to wonder if he aught to plan what he might say to her. There was plenty he wanted to say, but a good deal of it wasn't something he felt he could just blurt out. As much as he might have liked to, he couldn't just walk up and pull her in his arms and profess his feelings. The woman had just been brought back from the dead, for god's sake, and she couldn't have been alive for more than a couple days at most. How thoroughly awkward.

When the planning got a bit too complicated, he turned his thoughts to how she might react when she saw him. Would she recognize him? Would she be happy, or would she blame him for her dying? No, she wouldn't do that...despite how much _he _blamed himself for it.

He had just completed his third performance by the Jazz Trio when his door opened and the piece of work that had pulled him into this entire mess greeted him.

"Mr. Moreau. Your presence is requested in the Illusive Man's comm room," she stated and then stepped back to wait for him. He gave a stretch as he stepped through the door.

"Hey, my room is a little messy. Can you see to that?" he asked as he passed her. Miranda glanced into his quarters and her face contorted with confusion at how he could have possibly made such a pig sty out of a room with so little in it.

When he made it to the doorway at the top of the stairs to the comm room, Joker quickly became aware that the Illusive Man was already talking to someone. He slowed his step even more than usual and leaned against the far wall to wait his turn and listen in.

He hadn't been expecting what came next. It wasn't so much what the Illusive Man was saying, but who he was talking to. All the doubt and meager hope Joker had been stuck between pooled together and hit his stomach hard when he heard her. She sounded exactly the same, her voice a cool, unwavering sound. He couldn't see her from up here, but the more she talked the more he wanted to bolt down the stairs. Fortunately, his feet remained planted firmly in place and he could hear the Illusive Man talking about a pilot...a pilot Shepard could trust.

Screw it, he couldn't take it anymore. He kept his pace careful and steady as he took the stairs one step at a time. He kept his eyes fixated on his feet until he reached the bottom, and when they lifted again she had turned and her eyes landed on him in the dark. He straightened his posture the best he could manage as his mind reeled for something appropriate to say. She looked just like he remembered, save for some peculiar looking scars on her jawline; medical he supposed. Even in the dark he could swear he saw her eyes spark with not only recognition, but _fond_ recognition. Her lips curved into a smile and he couldn't stop his from doing the same. It was all the confirmation he needed.

"Just like old times, eh, Commander?"


	3. Waking Up

Joker was surprised at how casually the conversation came as he walked with her to the room overlooking the hangar. They talked as though they had just seen each other not a few hours before, except that the things they spoke of said otherwise. No matter how normal he sounded, Joker could barely keep his heart from beating out of his chest, particularly when she sidled right up beside him as they got their first real look at the new Normandy. He had already been ecstatic at the idea of seeing it in person, but having Shepard there with him made it that much more magnificent. It was a moment they were allowed to share, just them and no one else. Joker curled his fingers into his palm and flexed them out again, just barely starting to inch his hand closer to hers on the railing.

The echoing click of a set of heels on the platform made him draw back.

"We'll be set to head out first thing tomorrow, Shepard," Miranda said as she came up beside them. "In the meantime, I have arranged a room for you." She tilted her head to glance past Shepard at the pilot disapprovingly. Joker was hardly able to refrain from sticking his tongue out at her.

"I'd like to take a look inside," Shepard ignored her, which Joker found entirely too amusing. "I'd like to get to know my ship before the crew takes up residence." Miranda nodded once, looking as thought she wasn't exactly pleased with the idea but wasn't about to argue.

"Very well. I will escort Mr. Moreau -"

"He stays with me," Shepard cut her off, not even looking at her now. Her gaze was distant, perhaps focused on the Normandy. Joker watched as the Cerberus operative noticeably flinched. Okay, his smile was out full force now.

"As you wish, Commander. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to let me know." Shepard laced her fingers together and leaned on the rail as the woman made her retreat. Joker, warmed by the all-too-familiar, no-nonsense, I-do-what-I-please demeanor of his Commander, settled in beside her again. He leaned on the railing near her, taking some of the weight off his legs.

"She's mad, you know," he said.

"Oh, is she?" Shepard asked with mock-innocence and a smirk. "Come on. Let's go see what Cerberus has been up to." She pressed up to stand again and headed for the elevator that would take them into the hangar. Joker followed as quickly as his legs would allow.

When they arrived and entered the Normandy, the lights glimmered lazily to life inside. Their footfalls echoed in the emptiness of its space as Shepard gave the room they'd entered a thorough once-over.

"It certainly looks similar," she said, mostly to herself as she began to walk around the galaxy map's platform. Her fingers brushed over the edges of the following consoles lightly. There was only really one place that mattered to Joker, and he bee-lined straight for it. His steps slowed when he reached the cockpit and took it all in. Holy crap, that chair looked a hundred times more comfortable than the previous one had been. One touch was all he needed to find how cushy it was, lined with real leather. Cerberus may have been comprised of a bunch of assholes but they sure knew how to fly in style.

"Hey, Commander!" he called, voice bouncing off the metal walls. There was no answer, and he reluctantly pulled away from his exciting discovery to seek Shepard out. Walking back into the main room gave him no luck, so he assumed she must have headed to another floor. He called the elevator and saw that it was returning from the captain's quarters. The doors finally opened and he slipped inside, heading up to follow her there.

It was a mere stride between the elevator and Shepard's door, which opened instantly once he approached it. Apparently, the locking systems and clearances hadn't been programmed in yet. He poked his head in the room, noting how snazzy it was from the first glance. Yep, _style_. When he didn't immediately see her, he stepped inside the doorway.

"Shepard?" he called.

"In here," she replied, voice sounding a bit muffled. When he followed it, he realized she was in the bathroom. Upon drawing closer to the door he also realized there was water running. It sounded suspiciously like a shower.

_No. Freakin'. Way._

He felt his face start to flush red.

"You there, Joker?" Shepard called just as he'd heard the shower turn off.

"Yeah," he croaked, then cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah." He stared so hard at the bathroom door that his furrowed brow started to hurt. When it finally clicked and slid open, however, he whirled in a panic to pretend he was busy with something else. The fish tank seemed like a worthy enough focus, except there were no fish, so he became thoroughly engrossed in the, um, plants.

Shepard's soft footsteps padded out of the door and he could tell she'd passed behind him and headed down towards the bedroom. Out of his peripherals he could see her and that was enough to know she was wearing nothing but a towel over what she'd been born with. She appeared to be looking for something and eventually grabbed up a package that had been laying at the foot of the bed.

"I have no idea why they put that in here. I've always been terrible at keeping fish, and besides...it's one porno track away of making my room look like a night club."

"Some people find fish tanks soothing," he replied and then wondered where the hell that had come from. _Fish tanks are soothing, Jeff? What in the-? I don't even-!_

"I guess," she replied, tone sounding amused as she stepped up beside him to look at the artificial blue lights illuminating the tank. Joker's eyes darted towards her form. Yep, still half freakin' naked. Geez, didn't she know that he was standing right there? She must have realized he didn't exactly get much action given their idle chatter two years prior, and yet there she was, standing there as if it was no big deal at all. The way the blue of the water reflected on her skin made him agree wholeheartedly with her on the club remark, though he didn't necessarily see it as a bad thing.

He jumped a little when her fingers brushed his arm, touching the fabric of his sleeve.

"Sorry," she said with a slightly sheepish smile. "I was just going to say I hope this looks as good on me as it does on you." Joker's mind scrambled to figure out what exactly that meant and if it was some kind of strange innuendo (not that he'd mind), but then he saw the package in her hand was another Cerberus uniform. It looked a lot like his, but was likely more suited to her feminine structure...that he just couldn't quite stop looking at. That is, until she continued smiling at him and giving him a once over. "You look good."

"Thanks," he said, shrugging up his shoulders just a bit. "I wasn't sure about all the 'we-own-you' logos and all, but it's comfortable."

"That's good to hear, but I meant the fact that you're walking." Her nose wrinkled up a little that he found unbearably adorable before she turned and walked away from him.

"Oh, yeah, that," he said with a chuckle, leaning on one foot so he could stretch out the other and look at his boots. "It was part of the deal."

"What deal?" Her voice sounded flat, like she didn't quite enjoy the sound of that idea.

"Cerberus paid for my surgery, just like they paid to bring you back." He shifted a little, turning sideways to see she had her back to him and was looking over some datapads on her desk.

"Boy, we're both really in it for the long haul, aren't we Joker?" she said with an audible sigh. "I never thought I'd be asking Cerberus for help."

"To be fair, you didn't really ask. And at least they seem to be taking the Reaper threat more seriously than the Council."

"I suppose that's true. It doesn't make me feel any better about them, though."

"Me either...but...it's still nice to have you back."

"It's good to be back...if not a little strange," she replied, opening the packaging of her uniform. "I cannot even fathom how much has changed since I've been gone."

_Everything and nothing at all_, he thought. She was probably going to get dressed now, and he probably should have taken his leave, or at least turned around. But that anxious little knot in his chest wasn't letting him go.

"I ran into Tali. She seemed so...hard. Like all that youthful wonder had just been beaten out of her," Shepard said softly, sounding dejected. Joker found himself closer to her now, only vaguely wondering when it was that his feet had carried him over.

She dropped the datapad with an echoing clatter back onto the desk and brought her arms up around herself. Her head turned, but not enough to see him as stray water from her wet hair slid down between her shoulders, chilling her.

"I was fighting from the moment they woke me up... Answering questions about things that I was certain had just happened a few months ago... It all feels wrong...cold... Like I'm still dead and I'm just dreaming all this." Joker listened to her, hearing that normally rock-hard resolve starting to crack. They hadn't even given her time to adjust. Now that she was getting a chance on her own to actually absorb, it was all hitting her at once. She had died. Her crew was gone. And now Cerberus expected her to just pick up where she left off. Weaker people would have been a babbling mess on the floor by now, he thought, but somehow she was still standing. "And then I saw you...and you were _walking_..."

That was enough. All things be damned, he stepped in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against her bare, moist shoulder. She became rigid for just a moment, and then slowly relaxed in his embrace, hands resting over his.

"Joker," she said in a soft way he'd never heard before.

"I was stupid. I should have left that cockpit sooner," he said, slightly muffled against her skin.

"You gave people time to escape, Joker...," she offered, tilting her head back towards his a little. "You kept the Normandy steady... Casualties happen, but you made them minimal."

"It wasn't minimal, Shepard. It _wasn't_," he insisted, clenching his jaw a bit as his throat started to tighten up, dangerously close to emitting a sob he didn't want her to hear. His eyes burned as he did everything to be the strong one, something he hadn't been able to be for her. But, god, she was warm and soft and truly alive, and he was holding her. She turned enough to face him, towel twisting and just barely hanging on in some places. Joker was far too busy setting his expression firm to notice.

"Two years...," she said, looking at him. "Jeff..." He had never been so proud of himself as in that moment, when he managed his trademark smirk despite himself.

"Hasn't changed me a bit," he said. "I'm right here exactly as you left me, Commander." He watched one of her slender brows quirk just a little. Her eyes glanced about once, taking in the situation and Joker realized that, maybe, it wasn't exactly how she'd left him. She hadn't reacted badly thus far, though, so he supposed that was a good thing. Her hand moved up, palm gracing his rough jawline.

"You are...aren't you?" she said, though more to herself than to him. It was like she was proving to herself that he was really there. The thought was all too familiar for the pilot.

"Yeah. You can't just _dream _these good looks, you know," he affirmed, and felt all the tenseness in his body melt away when she actually started laughing. It wasn't terribly boisterous, but strong enough that he could feel it rise through her. Her arms came up and wrapped tight around his neck, hugging him for dear life and he returned the gesture with a little more control. "Careful... Unfortunately, this package still needs to be handled with care."

"Sorry," she said quietly, loosening her grip just a bit but not letting go. Joker glanced down and noticed the towel was trying to exit stage left and quickly grabbed at it to pull it back over her. Yes, he would have loved to see all she was accidentally baring right then, just not right this second. He caught a glimpse of the curve of her rear and thighs before he got the towel back up and could feel the heat from spreading through him as he bit his lip.

"Oh, damn," she said, pulling her arms back to grasp at the towel. "I'm so sorry. I don't know how I forgot..." Her shoulders and neck reddened as she wound her cover tightly around her.

"No problem," he said, playing with the bill of his cap. "I'm sure it would have been a nice show, though." His eyebrows bobbed once despite the fact his mind was screaming at him for being an idiot. Shepard gave him a crooked smile nonetheless. Oh, yeah, he recalled, Commander Shepard actually _enjoyed_ his humor.


End file.
